Tyler Sills

The Cry Of The Night Owl

Moonlight illuminates my cold, still room. Softly peering in from my bedroom  window as if it were trying not to wake me. Despite its gentle attempt, I was already awake. The sad reality was that I had never been blessed with the gift of sleep, or even a good night's rest for that matter. No; I was blessed with the burden of wandering thoughts, destined to travel wherever the mind was too scared to go during the day.